


Syzygy

by sockssss



Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockssss/pseuds/sockssss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Halfway into her first year at a new high school, Brenda Johnson makes some new friends while working on a Physics project. A few months later, she's picked to work on a class production of A Streetcar Named Desire featuring the frustratingly perfect (and super annoying) Sharon Raydor. After a while, she begins to reevaluate her feelings about Sharon.</p><p>Slow, slow, slow, slow burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Johnson, think fast!”  
  
She heard a slam as a football hit the locker right next to her and bounced away. She turned around with a glare set on her face only to see Andy Flynn and Provenza grinning like idiots. When they saw her expression their faces fell.  
  
“Sorry, Brenda,” Andy said.  
  
“Sorry,” Provenza muttered.  
  
She picked up the football and threw it so Andy had to jump back an inch to catch it squarely between his chest.  
  
“You could at least work on your aim,” she said, rolling her eyes as she slammed her locker door closed and began to walk confidently down the hallway, her ponytail bouncing in the air.  
  
Both Andy and Provenza stared after her in shock for a second before rushing to catch up with her.  
  
“So about this Physics project,” Andy said. “I know we don’t really know each other, but Physics isn’t really my thing, so if you were thinking of randomly assigning us to jobs…”  
  
“I don’t know if there’s a position on the team for moral support?” Provenza asked. “I could do that. I’m not up to date on any of these fancy computer programs we have to use for the class.”  
  
Brenda sighed.  
  
“Nobody is familiar with the computer programs, Provenza,” she said. “They’re designed for this robotics project. But I’m sure we can find a job that makes sense for everyone. Now come on, this is where we’re meetin'.”  
  
She pointed them into the science class, which was abandoned now that classes were over for the day—except Irene and David were in there already. Making out.  
  
“Oh for heaven’s sakes,” Brenda said. They turned around with guilty expressions and stepped away from each other.  
  
“Sorry, we didn’t realize anyone was on their way in,” said David, blushing.  
  
“All right, all right,” Brenda said. “But no funny business durin' our meetings, you two. Oh, here’s everyone else,” she said as Mike, Julio, and Buzz came through the doorway. “Let’s get started.” They all squeezed into seats around the table.  
  
“Now, I’ve already had questions about jobs for the team, and I know Physics isn’t anyone’s favorite class—yes, I know, except for you, Michael,” she added, as his hand shot up. “But the rest of us aren’t quite suited for it like you are. That said, I’m sure we can all find somethin' to do. So I’ve drawn up a list of _possible_ positions—nothin’s set in stone, so don’t panic.”  
  
She passed around a photocopied sheet to everyone in the group.  
  
Team manager: Brenda Johnson  
Designers: Michael Tao, Julio Sanchez  
Computer programmers: Buzz Watson, Irene Daniels, David Gabriel  
Electrical engineers: Provenza, Andy Flynn  
  
“I figured I’d just put everyone where their strengths are. Julio, if you’re not sure about the design stuff I’m sure Mike will know everythin’ we need to build, and you can help him. And yes, Provenza,” she said as he started to interrupt her, “I know you said you don’t know anythin’ about Physics, but I talked to last year’s seniors and they said electrical engineerin' is the easiest job. All you have to do is put together whatever switches we need for the machine to work. All it has to do is pick up ping pong balls, so it shouldn’t require anythin' too detailed. Now, does this seem like an okay arrangement for everyone?”  
  
She looked around the table. They all seemed to be nodding in agreement (albeit unenthused agreement on the part of Provenza).  
  
“Good,” she said. “I’ve drawn up a schedule that should keep us on track, so we should be able to meet back here next week with a few pieces designed for the robot. Oh, and I found blueprints in the back of the classroom for the two robots that won last year, so we can all take a look at those and see what we want to do for ours.”  
  
She noticed a few of the guys smirking.  
  
“What?” she said. “That’s not cheatin’. Just usin’ all the resources at our disposal.”  
  
She started handing stapled packets of blueprints to everyone.  
  
“Now, if you look at page two, there’s pictures of both versions, and then their material lists on the back, that way we know what our options are, and I also—what?” Mike and Andy, who were seated directly across from her, were staring in horror at something behind her.  
  
She flipped her head around and who should she see but Sharon Raydor, little Miss Perfect, standing in the doorway.  
  
“Yes, Sharon?” she asked. “We’re sort of in the middle of somethin' here.”  
  
“Are you?” Sharon asked. “That’s funny because I have this note of permission from the head of the science department to use this classroom after school on Thursdays, for meetings with my physics group. Surely they wouldn’t have issued two such notes to separate groups for the same time slot.”  
  
“You got a note of permission to book a classroom?” Brenda asked, her eyebrows raised. “That’s ridiculous. Nobody does that.”  
  
“Well, if you look at the student manual, it clearly states that students using facilities after hours are supposed to receive permission to use specific classrooms,” Sharon said.  
  
“You read the 400-page student manual?” Andy asked, astounded.  
  
“438,” Sharon said. “And yes, I did, which is why I have a permission slip to use this classroom right now. So if you could all be on your way, I’d appreciate it.” She smiled.  
  
Brenda turned back to her team, rolling her eyes, and began to pack up her stuff. They followed suit, and they all did their best to get out of their chairs as noisily as possible before walking through the doorway.  
  
She narrowed her eyes as she looked at Sharon.  
  
“Enjoy your faculty-approved classroom time,” Brenda said, eyeing the other members of the rival group, all crowded behind Sharon. “I’m sure y’all will need it.”  
  
Sharon closed the door behind them without a word. Brenda turned around and looked at everyone.  
  
“Oh, that girl!” she said. “I could just…ugh!” She slammed her backpack on the ground.  
  
“I know what you mean,” Provenza said. “She’s in my Theatre class and she’s bossy as hell in there too.”  
  
“You take Theatre?” David asked incredulously.  
  
“Yes, Gabriel,” Provenza answered, seeming insulted. “What can I say? It’s good place to meet the ladies.”  
  
Everyone stared at him.  
  
“Well, anyway,” Brenda said, “I can’t think anymore, not after runnin’ into that horrible Sharon Raydor. Why don’t we each meet back in a week, and each group can have a few pieces ready—Mike and Julio, maybe you can model some wheels? Buzz, Irene, and David, there’s an instructional guide for the computer program that you can borrow from the Physics department, so maybe program the robot to move around a bit, whatever you can figure out. And Provenza and Andy…make a few electrical switches. There’s an instruction session in the B Lab tomorrow after school, or if you’d rather spy on some of the other kids to figure out how to do it, that’s fine with me. And then we’ll regroup next week. All right?” She picked up her backpack and got ready to go.  
  
“Uh, Brenda?”  
  
“Yes, David?” she said.  
  
“Where are we going to meet if Sharon has taken over our classroom?” The other group members looked at her hesitantly.  
  
“Oh lord,” she said. “I don’t know. Write your phone numbers down for me and I’ll text you when I come up with somethin’.” She pulled a sheet of paper out of her backpack and handed it around with a pen.  
  
“Yeah, well, I know we’re not a bunch of Physics nerds—except Mike, that is—but I’m starting to hope we can pull off this robotics project. I don’t want Sharon Raydor and her team to beat us,” Andy said, as he wrote his phone number down on the sheet and passed it on to Provenza.  
  
“I don’t know, her group seems like a bunch of losers, don’t they?” Brenda asked. “I’m sure they’ll try to get us kicked out for not followin’ some rule or another but we’ll be careful. I’m more worried about Fritz Howard’s team—that Morris kid has a rich daddy who will buy them all the high tech parts they need. And who’s that other boy? Billy Assburn?”  
  
“Blackburn?” Irene said.  
  
“Oh, whatever, what’s the difference,” Brenda said as she collected the list of phone numbers from Julio. “Anyway, I know we’re not all good at Physics, but maybe we can pull somethin’ together and beat all those idiots. For now, let’s meet back in a week with some parts and see what we can do. I’ll text the new location as soon as I can, all right?”  
  
“Sounds good,” said Mike. The others murmured in agreement.  
  
“Good, then I’ll see you folks in Physics tomorrow,” she said, stuffing the piece of paper haphazardly into her backpack. “Have a nice afternoon, everyone.” And she walked confidently down the hallway, ponytail bouncing behind her head, as they all went their separate ways.  
  
“I like the idea of calling him Assburn,” Provenza muttered to Andy as they walked back down the hallway together.


	2. Chapter 2

Two months later, it was the night of the robotics competition, and they were making the final touches on their ping pong robot in the hallway next to the cafeteria. Mike, who had taken to their project with even more enthusiasm than they could have imagined, was running sandpaper across the edge of their scooping device while the other members of the group watched nervously.  
  
“All teams and robots into the cafeteria,” a voice boomed over the loudspeaker. “First match starts in three minutes.”  
  
“We ready to go, Michael?” she asked.  
  
“We’re ready,” he said. “Julio, can you help me carry it in?”  
  
Julio nodded and the two of them hoisted the robot up by its hindquarters and carried it slowly into the cafeteria. Brenda and the rest of the team followed, and she looked on nervously as they placed it inside the ring. Her team was playing the first match of round one, so if they got eliminated now, this was it.  
  
A voice came over the loudspeaker again. “The first match will be Brenda Johnson’s team, Velociraptors Anonymous, versus Peter Goldman’s team, Search and Destroy. Match begins in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.”  
  
Mike pressed the power button on their robot and backed away as one of the Physics teachers dropped a bunch of ping pong balls in between the two rovers—and it was on.  
  
The rest of the competition was practically a blur to Brenda, she was so nervous, and she would only remember bits and pieces later on: her team members cheering on their robot excitedly while she stood to the side biting her nails, their defeat of Peter Goldman’s team (easily done), their much narrower defeat of Andrea Hobbs’s team, the disappointed look on Sharon Raydor’s face when her team lost to Hobbs’s in the first round, and the final match between her team’s robot and Fritz Howard’s.  
  
Of course it was inevitable that Fritz’s robot would win—the technology they’d used was ridiculous. Both teams had a scooping device and a vacuum tube, but Fritz’s also had a high-capacity fan to divert ping pong balls away from the other team. When the timer went off and Fritz’s team won, they weren’t surprised.  
  
Dejected, Brenda sat down at a nearby lunch table, vaguely noticing Sharon Raydor talking to the head of the science department across the room. Of course she was, Brenda thought. It wasn’t even during the school day and Sharon Raydor was still sucking up to teachers. Typical.  
  
Provenza and Andy sat down next to Brenda.  
  
“Hey, it could be worse, right?” Andy said. “At least we didn’t lose to creepy Peter Goldman.”  
  
Provenza didn’t seem quite so optimistic. “Look at Morris meeting up with his parents,” he muttered. “Probably celebrating the triumph of their investment…most expensive ping pong robot in the world. NASA will be calling any day now.”  
  
“Oh, that reminds me,” Brenda said. “My Mama and Daddy are both here.” She turned around and searched the small crowd for Willie Rae and Clay.  
  
“Uh, Brenda?” Andy said, poking her in the side. “Something’s going on.”  
  
She whipped her head around and saw the head of the science department quietly conversing with two of the other teachers as they towered over the ring where the competition had taken place, looking closely at one of the robots. A few meters away there was Sharon Raydor, smiling smugly.  
  
Mrs. Collins, their Physics teacher, cleared her throat.  
  
“Excuse me! Can I have everyone’s attention, please?” she asked. Within a few moments the crowd in the cafeteria had quieted down.  
  
“Thank you,” she said. “I regret to announce that the winning team, Robot Nation, has just been disqualified from the competition after it was discovered that they used an external power source to operate a fan that was attached to their robot. According to the rules, the entirety of the robot must be powered by the battery provided to the team at the beginning of the competition.  
  
“As a result, Robot Nation is ineligible to win, and the first prize award, the Robotics trophy and $50 gift certificate to Randy’s Pizza, goes to Brenda Johnson’s team, Velociraptors Anonymous!”  
  
Brenda jumped out of her seat at the lunch table with Andy and Provenza and ran over to the rest of the team. She hugged Irene excitedly while the guys exchanged high fives.  
  
Before she knew it, her parents had appeared next to her, both looking ecstatic.  
  
“Brenda Leigh, we’re so proud of you and your team,” said Clay. “Y’all did a great job.”  
  
“Thanks, Daddy,” she said. “Everybody, this is my parents—Mama, Daddy, this is Mike, Julio, Buzz, David, Irene, Andy, and…Provenza was here a second ago.”  
  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” said Willie Rae, holding her hand out to each member of the team in turn.  
  
Provenza returned almost immediately, holding the trophy and the gift certificate.  
  
“Oh, this is wonderful,” Brenda said, grinning. “All right—how do y’all feel about taking this gift certificate and celebratin’ our victory tonight?”  
  
“Well, I wouldn’t mind so long as this lovely gentleman and lady join us,” said Provenza. “Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, I presume?” He held his hand out to introduce himself to Brenda’s parents, Andy rolling his eyes behind him.  
  
“Just one minute,” Brenda said, “I have to get my things. I’ll be right back, everyone!”  
  
She rushed to her locker, grabbed her backpack and purse, and ran back to the cafeteria as fast as she could—almost running over Sharon Raydor as she exited the bathroom.  
  
“Sharon. Hi.”  
  
“Hi.”  
  
They both stood there for a few seconds, looking at each other uncomfortably.  
  
“Congratulations,” Sharon said.  
  
“Oh. Thank you,” Brenda said, surprised. “I’m…sorry your team lost to Andrea’s. She’s tough to beat.”  
  
“Not for you, I suppose,” said Sharon with a smirk.  
  
“Right. Sorry,” Brenda said, looking down at her shoes. “Well, I have to...”  
  
“Yes, of course—I mean, me too. Have a good night,” said Sharon.  
  
“Night.”  
  
Brenda turned and walked back toward the cafeteria as Sharon walked in the opposite direction.  
  
It wasn’t until the end of the evening, when she was sitting in bed, that she considered the possibility that Sharon Raydor’s conversation with the head of the Science department might have been connected to the disqualification of Fritz’s team. But shortly after the thought occurred to her, Brenda fell asleep, and she woke the next morning with no memory of this revelation.  
  
* * * * *  
  
After the Physics competition was over, Brenda expected to have some time to relax, but no such luck. The following Monday their English teacher, Mrs. Goodwin, announced another project: she was splitting the class into six groups, each of which was tasked with creatively presenting a work of literature to the school at the end of the semester. After a brief and, as far as Brenda was concerned, unilluminating description of the project, Mrs. Goodwin pulled up the projector screen and revealed a list of assigned groups on the board.  
  
Brenda peered at the board and found her name in the following section:  
  
Tennessee Williams – A Streetcar Named Desire  
\- Andy Flynn  
\- Andrea Hobbs  
\- Brenda Johnson  
\- Julio Sanchez  
  
“Now,” Mrs. Goodwin said, “Let’s all split up into our groups. Each group should send one person to the front of the room to pick up your books, after which I want you all to start reading quietly until I meet with you. Brenda, Andy, Julio, and Andrea, I don’t have books for you. I’ll be over in a minute to explain.”  
  
Chairs scraped against the floor as the students got up and started moving around. Brenda made eye contact with Andrea, who was sitting on the other side of the room, and waved her over. She, Julio, and Andy were all sitting in the same row; they’d both taken to sitting on her side of the classroom after the first few weeks of the Physics project.  
  
“So, American drama,” Andrea said, raising an eyebrow. “Not really my area.”  
  
“Me neither,” said Brenda.  
  
“What’s Oscar Wilde?” said Andy.  
  
“British drama,” Brenda said.  
  
“Right. Never mind.”  
  
“Have you actually read an Oscar Wilde play?” Andrea asked.  
  
“My sister was in one,” he said. “I didn’t really understand what was going on. They all had accents.”  
  
“And you couldn’t tell it was British from the accents?” Andrea asked.  
  
“Oh. Good point.”  
  
Julio snorted behind him.  
  
“Okay guys,” said Mrs. Goodwin, who had walked over to their corner of the classroom. “I have a special project for your group. You’ll be collaborating with some of the kids who are taking Drama during this block, organizing and directing a performance of the play. Sound good?”  
  
The four of them nodded hesitantly.  
  
“I’m going to have you head over to the auditorium to meet everyone right now. Mr. Heinz is expecting you, so you can take your things and spend the rest of the period there. And make sure you get your books from him.”  
  
She handed Brenda a hall pass with a smile and walked away toward one of the other groups. Brenda, Andy, Andrea, and Julio shoved their notebooks and binders in their backpacks and gathered everything before making the short trip down the hallway to the auditorium. When they got there, they entered through the side door next to the stage and nervously waited for someone to notice them. A group of students were sitting onstage, listening raptly to a man who looked vaguely familiar to Brenda.  
  
“Oh hey, there’s Provenza,” said Andy. “I forgot he was in this class.” He waved enthusiastically, catching not only the eye of Provenza and the other students sitting on the stage, but the Drama teacher, who immediately stood up and bounded over to introduce himself.  
  
“You guys must be the English class we’re working with, right?” he said. “I’m Mr. Heinz; it’s great to meet you. Here, come up on the stage with us for a minute.”  
  
The four English students exchanged glances before following him up a narrow staircase and onto the stage. Brenda recognized Provenza, but none of the other students looked familiar.  
  
“I was just explaining the project to everyone,” he said. “Why don’t you all introduce yourselves? I’ll go grab the playbooks. How many do we need?” He looked at the group of students and started counting them, keeping track with his fingers. “Hang on. Aren’t we missing someone?”  
  
There was a clutter as the side door opened and Sharon Raydor came rushing inside.  
  
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Heinz,” she said. “I was contesting my grade on a history paper and it took longer than expected.”  
  
“Again?” Provenza muttered.  
  
“No problem, Sharon,” said Mr. Heinz. “We’re just about to introduce ourselves to the four students who are working with us on the play.”  
  
“Oh,” she said. “Right.” She wrinkled her nose as her eyes fell on Brenda.  
  
“Well,” he said, “I’m off to get the playbooks, but do introductions and I’ll be back in a minute.” He ran down the stairs and headed out through the back door of the auditorium.  
  
“What a surprise,” said Sharon. “I didn’t take you as the type to dabble in Tennessee Williams, Brenda.”  
  
“I’m just full of surprises, Sharon,” Brenda said with her trademark sweet (fake) smile. “I didn’t realize you were the type to take a class where you can’t incessantly question the teacher about the rules—though I’m sure you’ve found a way to make it work.”  
  
Before Sharon could retort, Mr. Heinz had come through the side doorway with a stack of books.  
  
“If you could all take one,” he said, taking one copy of the play for himself and handing the rest to Provenza to pass down, “we’ll start off by reading through it as a group. Come on, let’s all sit in a circle.”  
  
Brenda took special care to make sure she didn’t sit next to Sharon, and they wound up on opposite sides of the circle. She could swear Sharon smirked at her before she buried her face in her book.  
  
“All right,” said Mr. Heinz. “Scene one. Who wants to read for Stanley?”


	3. Chapter 3

The following Friday afternoon, Brenda had fallen fast asleep in the corner of the cafeteria during her study hall period. As she woke up from her nap, she realized that Andy and Provenza were sitting on the other side of the table playing cards.  
  
Still groggy, she lifted her head up slowly and stared at them.  
  
“Welcome back,” said Provenza.  
  
“How long have you two been sittin’ here?” she asked.  
  
They both shrugged.  
  
“You have the imprint of a spiral notebook on your face,” said Andy.  
  
“Oh lord,” she said, pulling a compact mirror out of her purse and frowning when she saw the lines left by the wires on the notebook. “Ugh, that’s what I get for fallin’ asleep.”  
  
“Why are you so tired this week, anyway?” Provenza asked. “Usually Flynn and I are barely conscious and you’re walking around with a spring in your step. We would both hate you for it if we didn’t find you so tolerable as a human being.”  
  
“That’s quite a compliment,” she said, tossing the mirror back in her purse. “I don’t know. This play is stressin’ me out. I keep thinkin’ if I don’t know everythin’ there is to know for rehearsals, that Sharon Raydor will act like I’m a complete idiot.”  
  
“Well, yeah,” said Provenza. “She treats everyone like that. It’s part of her personality. But you’re not supposed to stay up all night worrying about it.”  
  
“I know, I know,” she said. “I’m just not used to havin’ someone who’s so far ahead of me. I’m good at English but I don’t know the play at all. Meanwhile, she’s seen three performances of it and keeps talkin’ about it like she sleeps with the complete works of Tennessee Williams under her pillow every night.”  
  
“Is that something you want to aspire to?” Provenza asked.  
  
“I guess not.”  
  
“Anyway,” he said, “she’s not that bad. Really. She’s a bossy pain in the ass, but once she gets caught up in the performance she conveniently forgets to be annoying. In the meantime, don’t let her get to you.”  
  
“Easier said than done,” she said darkly.  
  
And she was right. Forty-five minutes later, she shared a knowing glance with Andy as they endured a long lecture by Sharon Raydor, who had taken control over this afternoon’s rehearsal. Brenda had tried to interrupt at least three times, but to no avail. Finally Provenza managed to interrupt Sharon loudly enough for her to notice someone else was actually speaking.  
  
“I know how much you love teaching us all about the play, Sharon, but why don’t we let someone else speak for a few minutes?” he said. “The theatre is, after all, a collaborative environment.”  
  
“Yes, all right,” she sighed, sitting down impatiently in one of the chairs in the first row.  
  
“Brenda, didn’t you say you had an idea?” he asked.  
  
“Uh, yes. Thanks, Provenza,” she said. “I was just thinkin’, since those of us in the English class are doin’ dramaturgical work for the production, maybe we could use our limited time together to start workin’ through the scenes as a group, and figure out what’s going on with the characters.”  
  
“I don’t see the point in starting to rehearse scenes when we haven’t worked through the cultural context of the play,” Sharon said.  
  
“Well, you’ve certainly given us a lot to think about during your extensive lectures on the subject today and yesterday, Sharon,” Brenda said, smiling too sweetly for it to be genuine. “And like I said, we’ve been hard at work researchin’ the history and culture behind the play, so we can provide y’all with any information you need on the subject. Now, since your class is supposed to be in charge of performance, why don’t we get to work and start discussin’ those scenes?”  
  
Sharon gave her a disdainful look, but seemed to concede, and everyone else nodded silently. They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing the first half of the play and trying to agree on a sense of tone, and although Sharon was quick to interrupt if she felt anyone was interpreting the scenes incorrectly, she was mostly cooperative.  
  
As the rest of the group headed home at the end of their rehearsal time, Brenda took a minute or two longer to get her things together, and was almost out the door when Sharon spoke.  
  
“You know I’m trying to be helpful, right?” she said. “You clearly don’t have any experience with theatre.”  
  
Brenda took a deep breath, composed herself, and turned around with another passive aggressive smile ready to go.  
  
“Well, I might not have the same experience as you, Sharon, but this is my job, not yours, and I’m sure I can handle it.”  
  
“I just care about the play. I want it to go well,” Sharon said.  
  
“That’s wonderful,” Brenda said, “and I’m sure we can make that happen without you micromanagin’ everybody else’s jobs.” Sharon appeared to be caught off-guard at her response, and Brenda took her stunned silence as an opportunity to make a quick exit.  
  
But for some reason, even as she walked down the hallway knowing that Sharon’s interventions today were unnecessary, she felt a pang of guilt now that their conversation echoed in her head. Although she was often slightly oblivious to the feelings of those around her, she couldn’t help thinking that she shouldn’t have been so quick to shut Sharon down after the last thing she’d said.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The following Monday, Brenda had typed up a list of all the details Mr. Heinz would need to include in their program for the play, and made her way toward his office, hoping to catch him before he left for the day. She knocked on his office door a few times to no avail, and decided the best option would be to leave the papers in his mailbox in the front office.  
  
As she walked past the auditorium, though, she thought she’d poke her head in quickly to make sure he wasn’t in there.  
  
He wasn’t, but what she ended up finding instead was something she didn’t quite expect. The Drama students were working on a scene from the play together—the plan for this week was that her group would work on compiling background information, while Sharon, Provenza, and the others experimented with some of the more challenging scenes—and this particular scene was more intense, more physical, than she’d realized when she read it. Up on the stage, Ginny Ryan, the Drama class’s senior member who had been selected to play Blanche, struggled as Emma Rios, one of the younger students, held her arms together and kept her from running away. Provenza, playing Stanley, loomed threateningly behind them. As heartbreaking as this sight was, Brenda found herself drawn to something completely different. In the corner of the stage, Sharon, playing Stella, watched the scene unfolding in front of her. She had an expression that bespoke a frighteningly ambiguous combination of anxiety, compassion, fear, shame, and helplessness. Amy Sykes held her in an embrace, tried to distract her, but Sharon’s—Stella’s—eyes remained fixed on what was happening in front of her. Even from the back of the auditorium, Brenda could tell that she was in tears.  
  
Suddenly feeling as if she was watching something she wasn’t meant to see, Brenda withdrew back into the hallway.  
  
As she headed calmly toward the front office, she slowly grew aware of a feeling in her chest that hadn’t been there before.  
  
* * * * *  
  
She was still a little fazed when she had dinner with her family that evening. The conversation filtered in and out as she replayed the image of Sharon’s performance in her mind. She vaguely sensed that Willie Rae was saying something about Clay Jr. and Bobby’s college girlfriends, which had been the topic of conversation for two of the last three family dinners.  
  
“I guess it’s easier for people to start datin’ once they get to college, isn’t it?” said Willie Rae. “I’m sure you haven’t been able to meet anybody at that high school of yours, Brenda Leigh, now have you?”  
  
Brenda snapped to attention. “Uh…what, Mama?”  
  
“It’s all right, you’ll find someone when you get to college like your brothers did, I’m sure,” her mother said. “Although your father was wonderin’ about that Provenza boy…”  
  
“Oh, goodness,” said Brenda. “No, Daddy. Provenza and I are just friends; it’s not like that at all.”  
  
“Oh, is he datin’ that Andy Flynn?” asked Willie Rae. “I had a feelin’ about those two.”  
  
Brenda snorted and almost choked on her glass of water as she imagined Provenza’s reaction if he’d heard that.  
  
“I don’t think so, but I’ll keep an eye on them and report back, Mama,” she said.  
  
Across the table, Jimmy was looking uncomfortably down at his plate.  
  
“Excuse me, I have to go finish my homework,” Brenda said, picking up her plate so she could make a quick exit.  
  
“Should I bring dessert up to your room later, Brenda Leigh?” Willie Rae asked eagerly.  
  
“Oh no Mama, don’t worry about it,” said Brenda. “I’ll come down to get some later if I’m still hungry.” She dropped her dish off in the sink and rushed up the stairs before her mother could ask any more questions about her dating life (or, god forbid, Provenza’s).  
  
Up in her room, she took out her History textbook and tried to focus on her reading assignment for this week. But the image of Sharon Raydor kept surfacing in her head. Frustrated, she shut her book and pulled out her phone, looking for a distraction. She scrolled down, found Andrea’s name, and typed out a message:  
  
_My mama thinks Andy and Provenza are a couple._  
  
She threw her phone on the bed and went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. When she came back a few minutes later, she heard her phone buzz as a new text message came in. She shut off her light and hopped into bed as she picked it up, reading Andrea’s response:  
  
_Should we throw them a coming out party?_  
  
Brenda laughed and immediately typed a response.  
  
_Good call. I'll bring the margaritas._  
  
After scrolling through some of the older messages on her phone for a few minutes, trying to relax, she turned it on silent and tossed it on her night table.  
  
She turned over to lay on her right side and snuggled under the covers, with thoughts of Sharon Raydor floating in and out of her head as she slowly drifted off to sleep.


End file.
